By Brittany McCormick
For a long time, I thought independence had to look a certain way. I thought it meant walking; doing things on my own. I thought it meant not needing equipment; not needing help; not having to adapt. But life with cerebral palsy has taught me something completely different.
Independence doesn’t have one shape. Sometimes independence has wheels. Sometimes it has a joystick. Sometimes it looks like asking for help. Sometimes it is simply getting out of bed and deciding that, despite everything, you’re going to try again.
I have a standard wheelchair, an electric wheelchair and a treadmill. Someone might wonder why I need all three. They offer me choices.
My wheelchair helps me move through the world. My electric wheelchair gives me the freedom to go further and conserve my energy. My treadmill gives me an opportunity to challenge myself and improve my capabilities.
None of them makes me less disabled. None of them makes me more disabled. They are simply tools that help me live my life.
I want people with a disability to hear this: You don’t have to choose between accepting your disability and believing in your potential. You can do both.
You can accept the body you have today while still working toward what you hope your body might do tomorrow. You can use a wheelchair and still dream about walking. You can walk sometimes and still need a wheelchair.
You can be independent and still need assistance. You can be strong and still have difficult days. You can be all of these things at once.
There is no rulebook for how disability is supposed to look. Your journey doesn’t have to look like somebody else’s. Maybe your progress is taking your first step. Maybe it’s learning to transfer independently. Maybe it’s getting stronger. Maybe it’s going somewhere by yourself for the first time. Maybe it’s learning to use a new piece of equipment. Maybe it’s simply believing in yourself again after a really difficult day.
Don’t underestimate those victories. Small progress is still progress. Don’t compare your chapter to somebody else’s. You don’t know how long they have been fighting. They don’t know yours either.
Your journey is yours. Take it at your own pace. There will be days when you feel unstoppable, and days when you feel exhausted, frustrated and disappointed. That doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It means you’re human.
I have days where I wish my body worked differently. I have days where I wish things were easier. I’ve learned not to let one difficult day convince me that my entire future is difficult. A setback is a moment. It is not your identity. A limitation is something you experience. It is not the totality of who you are.
Needing help is not a measure of your worth. If you need a wheelchair, use it. If you need someone beside you, let them stand beside you. There is no shame in using the tools that help you live.
There is courage in adapting. There is courage in saying, “I need help”. There is incredible courage in looking at your circumstances and deciding: “This may be my reality, but it will not decide the size of my dreams.”
That is what I want my life to represent. I keep choosing to move forward even when forward looks different. You need to discover what your version of independence looks like.
Don’t let someone else’s definition of strength make you feel weak. Don’t let somebody else’s idea of independence make you ashamed of needing support. Don’t let the way your body works convince you that your dreams have to become smaller.
Your possibilities are still worth exploring. If today all you can do is take one tiny step forward, let that be enough. Tomorrow, you can try again. Sometimes the greatest victory isn’t how far you went, but that you refused to stop believing you could go somewhere at all.
I am learning that my life isn’t about proving what I can do without assistance. It’s about discovering what I can do with the right support. To me, true independence is having the courage to say: “This is who I am. This is what I need. This is what I can do. And I’m going to keep discovering what is possible.”
There is still a way forward. And sometimes, finding that way is the bravest thing you will ever do.
